Falling in Love Again by Cathy Maxwell

bringing her with him.
    On the opposite side of the fence, Bertie was shouting at Mrs. Daniels to open the gate. But the landlady was so busy screaming, her voice loud enough to wake the dead, that she didn’t hearhim. Her cries of, “The wicked Lord Craige has broken into my house!” set neighborhood dogs to barking.
    A man’s gruff voice yelled from a neighboring window, “Be quiet out there!” Several lights appeared in various windows as homeowners investigated.
    â€œCome,” John commanded. He took Mallory’s hand and started in one direction, just as Mallory pulled in the opposite one.
    Their clasp broke. John stopped abruptly, his expression almost comical.
    â€œThis way,” she urged him. “Bertie posted a Runner in that direction.”
    â€œAnd this is the closest way out of the alley,” he shot back. “The Runner has moved to the front of the house or else we would see him by now.” He caught her hand and through sheer masculine domination propelled them in the direction he wanted—only to stop abruptly when a man wearing a glossy, hard hat appeared in the alley entrance.
    â€œDamn, you were right,” John said. They ran back the way Mallory had chosen.
    Under her breath, Mallory mimicked his words, “I’m certain the Runner has moved to the front of the house.” For her impertinence, he squeezed her hand.
    They ran with the Runner hard on their heels. We aren’t going to make it , Mallory thought. Her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. Her heart pounded against her chest.
    â€œHard-headed lads, aren’t they?” John asked,and Mallory wondered how he could tease at such a moment.
    Just as they left the alley and emerged onto the street, Mallory heard the distant clacking sounds of more watch rattles coming from another direction. More Runners!
    â€œJohn,” Mallory called, trying to get his attention. He had to see that it was no use. They couldn’t run all night. They must give themselves up.
    She started to call again, to pull on his hand and force him to stop, when a team of horses pulling an enclosed wagon charged around a corner. The driver practically stood in his seat to pull the wild-eyed team to a halt.
    â€œCraige!” the driver yelled. “Get in, man! Hurry!”
    â€œIt’s Peterson!” John shouted, and pushed Mallory toward the wagon while he turned to confront the Runners.
    Mallory ran to the back of the wagon. Her trembling fingers felt along the lacquered wood for the door handle. From the other side of the wagon, she heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Then another.
    She threw open the door, but, suddenly uncertain, didn’t move. What if John needed help? Holding the door open for protection, she peeked around the corner.
    John swung one fist and knocked a Runner into the arms of his other three comrades. He ran to join her, skidding before she climbed inside.
    Without ceremony, he gave her a boost up witha hand to her rump, practically throwing her into the wagon. Peterson didn’t wait for them to slam the door shut before he set the horses in motion with a crack of his whip. Mallory started to rise, lost her balance, and tumbled back against the side. Over her head in the dark were hooks with different tools hanging from them. A peculiar odor permeated the interior.
    Peterson’s driving was far worse than John’s as they charged down empty streets. She and John were bounced every which way until Bertie’s cries for them to halt and the watch rattles faded in the distance. Eventually, Peterson slowed the horses.
    Mallory’s heartbeat gradually returned to normal. She sat up from her place on the floor. Then John sat up, reached for her in the dark, pulled her to him, and gave her a big, smacking kiss right on the lips!
    â€œYou were wonderful!” he exclaimed.
    Mallory blinked, dazed by his enthusiasm. Her lips tingled, warmth radiating